


If You Say So

by Queer_Trash_Queen



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 3b, Character Death, F/M, Major character death - Freeform, Nogitsune Stiles, Suicide, sort of, sort of canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-15 06:01:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1294027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queer_Trash_Queen/pseuds/Queer_Trash_Queen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The aftermath of the defeat of the Nogitsune. They're not so okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Basically I listened to Lea Michele's absolutely heartbreaking new song called If You Say So and I couldn't get the lyrics out of my head so this was born.

1\. It’s been seven whole days, seven whole days since you paralyzed me

A week ago, Stiles Stilinski killed the Nogitsune and saved them all. He also killed himself. And paralyzed Lydia Martin. She never knew so much could change in just seven days.  
She hasn't left her room since it happened. Hasn't slept. Hasn't eaten. Hasn't been able to. She lies in bed all category the door locked and the blinds closed, thinking. Grieving. Crying. Occasionally screaming. 

The first day after Stiles... just After, the whole pack had tried to force their way in. But she's Lydia Martin, she thinks ahead, even when everything is falling apart. She'd made a barrier of wolfsbane in front of her door and window sills, and then for good measure, a circle of it around her bed. It smelled absolutely awful, but it reminded her of him.  
On the second day After, only Allison, Isaac and Scott sat outside her door. Her mother left food outside her door and didn't try to talk to her. She didn't quite understand why her daughter was mourning the death of a boy that to her knowledge, she barely knew. By the fifth day, even Allison had given up and her mother didn't even venture upstairs. 

She gives up trying to un-see the image of Stiles’ body. Lydia is pretty sure it’s etched onto the backs of her eyelids by now.

 

She pretends it isn’t harder to breathe without him


	2. 2

2\. Seven whole days, seven whole days since you lost your fight

None of them are exactly sure when the Nogitsune possessed Stiles; they only know that it had taken them a good long while to figure out what was happening. He had to have been fighting it for so long on his own, trapped in his own head, watching as the Nogitsune wreaked havoc on his world but unable to stop it. 

The Nogitsune had told her, once, that it could hear Stiles screaming not to hurt her. It told her that Stiles could see everything it was doing, and it could tell what he was feeling. It told her that Stiles loved her, and then it stabbed her and repeated everything Stiles was saying – screaming – back to her, just so that it could see the look on her face. She’d surprised it when she begged , not for her own life, but for Stiles. The Nogitsune had twisted Stiles’ face into something that almost echoed Stiles’ stupid smirk (the one that just screamed ‘I told you so’) and told her what she’d suspected for a very long time.

“You love him. How bittersweet.” It had twisted the blade of the dagger sharply and Lydia cried out. “Do you hear that, Stiles? The little banshee is in love with you.” It turned to her, pushing the dagger even deeper into her abdomen. “He’s going to die, little banshee. He’s a strong fighter for a human, did you know? Your Stiles is a tricky one, but he is no match for me. He’s already weak, and dying, and you can’t stop it.

But you can watch."


	3. 3

3\. And I can’t get the last words that you said, can’t get those word out of my head

He called her before he did it. Stiles called her, but she didn’t pick up the phone - the last time she’d picked up the one of Stiles-but-not-really-Stiles’ calls she had been stabbed, and so Scott had told them all not to answer any calls from Stiles’ phone lest another one of them be lured into a Nogitsune trap. 

She has the voicemail saved to her phone. She can’t stop hearing what he said, over and over and over. She plays the message when she starts to feel like she’s forgetting his voice.

"I'm sorry, Lydia. Tell everyone I’m so sorry. Tell the pack I love them. I’m sorry I couldn’t wait for you guys to save me this time. I just can’t take this anymore. I’ve only got a little while to do this. It’s gonna take control again, I have to do this while I can. I’m so sorry. I love you. I love you, Lydia.”

It hurts her so badly that she can’t say it back. That she’ll never have the chance to. She feels selfish keeping his words for herself when no one else can hear him anymore either, but she thinks the others will understand in time. She needs this. 

She needs this last piece of him if she wants to keep breathing.


	4. 4

4\. Seven whole days, seven whole days, and four words

Lydia can’t stop hearing him now. 

Rationally, she knows it’s probably not the very last words he said, but what if it was? The guilt sits on her chest like an ugly animal and threatens to swallow her whole. 

“I love you, Lydia. I love you, Lydia. I love you Lydia.”

It never ends. At first, she worried she would forget his voice, but now she’s terrified she never will. Sometimes she wonders if she’ll ever be able to stop feeling like there’s a gaping hole in her chest, like there’s a piece of her missing. 

Lydia read somewhere once that after a deep emotional trauma (like, say, finding the body of the boy you’re in love with after coming out of another fugue state) the tendons in a person’s heart can break causing the heart to lose form and as a result become unable to pump blood efficiently. Maybe that’s the awful aching feeling in her chest. Or maybe it’s just grief and loss. That would explain why she feels like she’s going to throw up all the time now. Why she can’t stop hearing his voice in her head.

“I love you, Lydia. I love you Lydia. Ilove you Lydia. Iloveyou Lydia. IloveyouLydia. Iloveyoulydia. Iloveyoulydia. Iloveyoulydia. Iloveyoulydiailoveyoulydiailoveyoulydiailoveyoulydia."

She screams.


	5. 5

5\. And I can’t get away from the burning pain, I lie awake and the fallen hero haunts my thoughts

Nine days After, she sleeps for the first time.

In her dream (nightmare) Stiles is there. 

She wakes up crying. She’s not exactly sure why. It had something to do with the dream she’d been having, but she can’t recall exactly what she’d been dreaming of. She sits up, breathing heavily. Stiles stirs next to her, rolls over in his sleep. He wakes up when her crying becomes wailing. He sits up and tries to soothe her. He puts his arm around her and kisses her temple.

”You’re alright Lydia. I’m right here. You’re safe. You’re okay.” 

Lydia looks up at Stiles and screams. His eyes are missing, and his skin is grey and decaying, and the slash on his throat from that night has maggots crawling out of it.

Lydia screams herself awake and stumbles to the bathroom. She barely makes it before she’s retching into the toilet. She thinks about what Stiles said in her dreams and makes a pathetic noise in the back of her throat. 

He’s not here, and she is not okay, and she doesn’t know if she’ll ever feel safe again.

Lydia takes three sleeping pills and ignores the fact that a few more could have her buried in the ground too. She falls into a dreamless sleep curled up in her bathtub with the lights on.


	6. 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's back.

6\. How could you leave me this way?

Three days after Stiles' funeral, Lydia's phone rings in the middle of the night. She's not asleep, not even close, but when she checks the caller ID she knows she has to be dreaming. She checks the display screen three times, but it reads the same each time.

STILES CALLING....

Against her better judgement, she she answers it. She can hear someone breathing on the other side of the line. She prays this is a cruel prank call.

"Lydia?"

She drops the phone. This isn't happening to her. It can't be. She was there when they lowered him into the ground. She watched them pile the dirt on top of the coffin.

Stiles is six feet under the ground, and Lydia would still give anything to trade places with him, because living in a world without him - as a friend, as a pack mate, as a protector, an anchor, a... whatever they were - hurts so badly that sometimes she forgets to breathe and the walls feel like they're closing in around her, but there's no Stiles to kiss her out of it, because his tether, the one that was supposed to keep him sane, and human, and _here_ was weak. She was too weak. She _is_ too weak. He needed her, and she couldn't help him. She was his anchor, and she helped to sink him.

She has to live with that.

:.:

Lydia doesn't know if she's going crazy - that's the preferable option right now (and how has her life gotten to the point where insanity is the best choice?)- and she doesn't really care. She doesn't tell the others what happened, because she couldn't stand seeing the anger and heartbreak on their faces. They're starting to heal, and they don't need her weighing them down and holding them back. It's her burden to bear. It's not the fist time the dead have spoken to her after all.

So maybe she's losing it. But really, how sane had she been to begin with?

:.:

She's not crazy. Scott calls a pack meeting four days after Lydia gets a call from a dead boy. He gathers them all in his living room - Derek, Melissa, the Sheriff, Isaac, Allison, Peter, Deaton, the twins, even Cora - and confirms what Lydia had desperately been hoping wasn't true.

"It's back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Run on sentences are kind of my thing, sorry not sorry.

**Author's Note:**

> I accidentally wrote five more parts and now I don't know what to do with my stydia feels.


End file.
